The Dark Passage
by LadyYara
Summary: a story of edward's way to bella. rated M for reason.


Chicago, 1918.

I was on my evening round. Were it years of practice or just a habit of keeping my mind distant that didn't let my emotions burst away? It wasn't the first time I'd evidenced the consequences of an epidemic, but what actually was happening around me better suited for the middle age, not for twentieth century.

Men, women and children from all societies – no one could escape the decease. _La Pesadilla, _Spanish Grippe. If I were even a little bit of pathetic, I'd compare myself with the angel of death, because as a doctor I was completely useless there. In spite of my complicated position in the food chains, I wasn't indifferent to humans, but I couldn't share that with anyone of 'my kind'. There were not so many of them with the same points of view as mine, at least I hadn't met so many for the last three hundred years. Even less of them could stand the view and smell of human blood. Well, that perhaps was my talent – my patience.

Patients changed so often, I wasn't sure my human colleagues were able to remember all their faces and names. I did, and it only made it worse for me. I felt like an unchangeable rock in the ocean of human lives, one wave came after another, so different and so alike. They were like a swarm of flies, humming senselessly, their moves seemed to be so chaotic. And still, their lives had more purpose than my own. I wasn't supposed to change or die, didn't have to worry about my safety much. Even hunger didn't bother me, as I'd mastered resistance to temptation of drinking from humans. The emptiness of my soul I filled with every day care to these fragile people. In some way they were precious to me, more precious they were to themselves. How could they value their lives and souls enough if they couldn't compare it to anything else? I could, I still had my mortal memories. And now the air was thick with their voices and whispers, so full of fears. I wished sometimes to mute these voices, wished my senses were not so sharp. I could hear almost every conversation said of whispered in the hospital, sense heartbeats and changing scents. In a normal situation I would be all right with some percentage of panic in the air. What I experienced was way far from normal. It could terrify even a vampire.

People tended to open up in front of death's face. What was hidden came up finally. For me it was the worst consequence of the epidemics, because I was overwhelmed with the dark side of human nature. Words of wisdom, peace and forgiveness were so rare, that I had to try really hard not to spend all my time with those few opposite ones. There was a high society patient, Elizabeth Masen, to whom I was obliged to pay more attention, so did I, gladly. Good-natured and full of life, she was gradually burning out and fading. Already lost her husband to the same decease, she had to watch her only son catching it. What pained her most was the fact she was going to die now knowing if he managed to recover. Rather easygoing, she would talk about anything besides her condition, but her anxious eyes were betraying her. She watched me intently while chatting, and once her worries burst out.

- Dr. Cullen, I need an honest answer, please, - she spoke hastily. Obviously those words took every ounce of her self-control. Her fingers twitched as if she thought of reaching my hand and holding it. – You see, I'm close to the end, and some part of me is longing for it. – I'd seen how she parted with her husband and knew what she meant.

-There's only one thing I'm dying to know, - she chuckled softly at the irony.

- I want to close my eyes forever knowing that Edward is all right. I don't want him to die. – Some cynical part of my mind was amazed she hadn't used the word 'alive'.

- I trust you with my son, I believe you can save him from death, - her gaze was so strong, I even felt a soft push in the stomach, a sensation I haven't had for quite a time. Standing here, watching this thin, exhausted from illness woman asking for her son's life, actually felt like some desperate moth hit the rock and moved it.

I couldn't promise her anything, yet trying to calm her I used most working professional cliches and phrases, my most calming voice to ease her pain. She didn't buy it, and when I was walking away from her I felt her gaze on my back.

So many times I'd heard this heartbreaking song – a parent asking for his child's life. As if I had powers to change something. But they kept asking, looking to my eyes, pleading. I became immune to these pleads, otherwise it would be impossible to treat patients. This time I was touched though, deeply touched. The whole epidemics hysteria, an unending pressure of human fears and emotions, the fact that the plea came from such a different, good-hearted person… And of course, most of all, that it was about Edward.

I knew him from the times when his father was alive and several times enjoyed conversations with this bright boy. I had seen him and his mother nursing the head of their family when he caught the dreadful illness. After too short period of time Edward had to face another strike of fate and started visiting his mother in my hospital. Nobody could talk him into avoiding this fearsome place. Elizabeth pleaded, threatened him to stay away, but he kept coming, cheering her, making her smile. He was always careful about her thoughts and never let her feel it might not end well. And in the end he landed on one of the hospital beds with no one to visit him.

I had to change routine and go home at least for a while. I did not have a need in rest, but even in those dark times, when no one cared about anyone, people might have found it strange if you stay at work for months without leaving even once.

What I'd called home was a mere apartment close to the hospital. It was only full of books, and almost nothing else. Not a matter of money, I simply refused copying humans' environments, because I was not human. Putting myself around useless furniture would only remind me of who I was and what I lacked. I tried to occupy my mind with texts – researches, not fiction of any kind – and banish the thoughts of my loneliness.

That night reading wasn't helpful at all. My thoughts were dancing around possibilities of finding myself a friend, a companion. I'd lost any hope of meeting a vampire with the same 'vegetarian' attitude towards humans, with some humanitarian approach, so I started playing with an idea of creating one. To turn a man into vampire.

I couldn't help but shudder at the thought. Rather dimly, but I still remembered how it was for me. How all my life had been taken away without my permission, how empty I'd felt. I'd lost so much. My family, my hopes, my connections with people. It took me a long century to develop at least a small hint, a promise of something that could fill the emptiness left after loosing my life. But I was alone in the beginning of my new existence, with no one by my side to guide me. For the person I'd turn I could ease those hard first years. I could teach, I could share my thoughts, and he might even accept it one day.

I kept staring on the wooden shelf blankly instead of reading the book I had in my hands. All my thoughts were devoted to the idea. It was unusual to me to be so unable to focus on studying, but I couldn't help it and just stood there, daydreaming. There were too many moral aspects to think of, but I was caught by a hope of not being alone anymore.

The ward walls were painted in such an oddly cheerful color, contrasting with the whole atmosphere so badly, that it could cause nausea even in a vampire. I checked recent notes in patients' records while going through the corridor. Seven more died when I was absent. I looked through names quickly and felt slightly relieved.

It wasn't easy to make myself go to see Edward. Every information I needed I could get from a nurse on duty, but it wasn't very humanistic and typical from me to avoid patients.

Rather relieved I sat on the edge of his bed. He was sleeping and I successfully escaped a conversation. He was smart and respectful, with good understanding of people, which made him really nice to talk to. Though this time I preferred to keep my comfortable silence, as I had nothing good to tell him. I knew he wouldn't disappoint me showing some bitter emotions, he always took bad news as a man. But he still was just a boy, promising to grow into a really outstanding person, if he only had time for this. And I hated to see him dying.

What this war had done to people… It weakened the whole world's immunity and spread the deadly decease in a flash of a light. So many lives were cut; so many stories never had its hard deserved happy ending. I could only wonder what life those people around me might have, if not war. Human lives weren't supposed to be easy anyways, but such cruel interruption seemed so injustice.

I heard a talk in the neighbor ward. Among others there was an old soldier in his last days. Same damn decease. His harsh, even rude talk often made me wince, but this time his words were different. I never thought he might have sound gentle, it even made me listening.

"So how many you say, darlin'? I just want to make sure", he was asking someone in a kind worried tone. After a small pause a female voice replied.

"Quite enough," there was a soft smile in the voice. "We're lucky to have such neighbors, they showed up and offered help. It might come in handy, really." The man sighed peacefully.

"Go only to the stores where they take orders outside," he continued much calmer. "And I really wouldn't mind if you just locked yourself at home and don't risk by coming here." By the intonation I took those were his parting words, the old guy was pushing her away gently. Judging by the quiet sounds she fixed the comforter and pillows with her sure hands and kissed him.

"Goodbye dad. I'll come back soon." Those simple words radiated with such calm. I heard the footsteps and the sound of closing door. Her father must have felt it too, his breathing changed to a much healthier one. For the next few hours, as I watched him, he was a different man, no even sign of fear in his scent, like he was shielded from any worry.

A nurse came and brought me an urgent note asking to visit Mrs. Masen. Her eyes stopped at Edward's face, examining his features. A shadow of regret ran on her face when she passed me the note. I couldn't tell if she regretted for Edward solely or for the whole family tragedy. Though it couldn't be more obvious – this visit of mine would be the last for Elizabeth. And I would have to tell her son about it.

Those were the last minutes of her life. She couldn't speak, but was conscious, her eyes opened and till the last moment she held her gaze on me. She only watched, and it made me think of the only thing she had asked me to do. To save her son somehow. _Poor moth. You can't hit the rock and stay alive_, I was repeating to myself bitterly.

It _was_ within my powers to fulfill her last and only will, and at the same time it wasn't. I didn't think of myself as of a monster, but also knew that it was only a matter of my own choice.

_What if I only make it worse? Poor boy had suffered enough in his life, I would only cause more of it. Wouldn't it be merciful to let him die and join his parents in heaven? He doesn't have anyone left in this world, he is alone. Just like me._

Signing papers of Mrs. Masen's death I headed back to Edward. It was better to inform him immediately, easier for both of us. On my way through idiotic peach colored corridor I was stopped by a nurse, who was sending thick waves of estrogen at my direction. Accompanied with a wicked look on her face and generally heartless behavior, it really was making her presence hardly tolerable.

"Ah, dear Dr. Cullen," she panted swaying with all her body. "May I offer you my help with anything?" I could suggest that by anything she really meant 'anything'.

"Mm, only for such intonation two centuries ago you'd be burned on fire," I replied playfully, slightly lifting my upper lip and showing a row of sharp teeth. "It was such a nice tradition, why don't we have it in our days?"

Perhaps she didn't catch the sarcasm, but a view of predator's fangs sent her a sharp jolt of fear and she almost jumped aside. My mission wasn't the most pleasant on the list, but receiving some doubtful advances was much worse. God, she was really getting on my nerves. Sometimes I sincerely missed the time of my youth, when ladies were, well, ladies.

Edward was awake and reading when I reached his bed. He slowly lowered his book looking at me intently, just like his mother did. He had her eyes. That thought echoed with a cold sensation in my stomach. I knew that my face was still and emotionless, but somehow he realized what news I'd brought to him. With a sharp hiss he lifted his hand silencing me in a defensive gesture and turned away. I couldn't see his face, he wasn't crying, there were just dry sobs coming from his body. It was an unbearable view. After witnessing his mother's death, watching her selfless gaze, after the humiliating experience I'd just had, after being surrounded by cries of fear and hatred, it was simply heartbreaking to watch this stoic torment.

Like I thought nothing could be worse. I slowly dropped at the corner of Edward's bed, when the too familiar sounds reached my ear. Those were the sounds of a soul parting with its body. Somebody was dying behind the wall, and I had a quick thought that Edward was lucky for not being able to hear that. He was sobbing more quietly, when the female's voice spoke.

"Here, here. Don't be afraid. Here you are in my arms, and just the second you are there – she'll pick you up. I say goodbye, god knows I don't want you to leave. But you finally will be with mom, she misses you." She was gently rocking him in her arms.

"Why would she need me, she's still young there in heaven, and you only look at me," - he whined quietly.

"It doesn't matter for her how old you are. For love is the only thing that matters. Everyone who is supposed to be together will find a way to meet. Here on Earth, on in heaven, or in another life. You only need to believe. God moves in mysterious ways." She sounded like a lullaby. There were no tears in her voice, only deep trembling emotion. "Sleep, dad, sleep."

I sat there, astounded, but utterly peaceful. The sounds of agony lasted for a few minutes and ended. It was a merciful death, and if I were a human, I could only wish for such. Edward with his human senses was blissfully unaware what just happened, he also seemed to calm down and regain composure. I was worried that his temperature might have jumped uncontrollably at the sad news, but the crisis was over and I could leave his safely. He needed several minutes to be alone with his sorrow. I also needed a small walk to regain control over my emotions, to set up my mind.

Later I was definitely going to think over the words I'd just heard. It seemed to me sometimes that everything around was connected, nothing was discrete. And it felt like what just happened had more meaning than it seemed.

I was lucky not to stumble upon anyone, so desperately I wanted to be alone at least a few minutes. And really, all negative emotions seemed to run away from me. When I came to open the door to enter Edward's ward, with a corner of my eye I noticed the soldier's daughter already at the opposite end of the corridor. Just turning around the corner, she stopped caught by uncontrollable cough. I couldn't see her face, and I didn't need it to recognize the symptom. Poor girl, she was going back to the hospital in a short time, and not as a visitor.

I found Edward lying on the bed flatly with a blank expression on the face. A nurse was staying by his side worried slightly.

"Fallen asleep, Dr. Cullen, just the minute you had left. Poor boy, I can only imagine." It was good to see someone still able to empathize in the middle of that hell. " Maybe it's better for him to sleep over. Less damage. If it still matters." She added the last words very quietly.

I nodded. Edward was sleeping tightly, he was in fever, but the breathing was deep and even, better that in a long time. The illness had too many scenarios to predict what was going to happen next accurately. It the best case – best for Edward, less painful – he will slip into coma and just stop breathing once. After everything he'd had, I really believed it was the best for him.

His deep, almost unconscious sleep worried me, it wasn't very natural. Perhaps his body was simply shutting down, letting him have some merciful rest without dreams. There wasn't much to do for me in the hospital. The stream of deceased people became thinner, and those who already had been there were continuously fading away. I waited at Edward's bed till he woke up.

He was weak, he hadn't got up from his bed for three days already, but he was determined.

"Carlisle, I need to see her." Edward's face showed intense concentration. He was breathing deeply, but evenly, maybe too evenly. Only his clutched fists were telling the real situation.

"Edward," I spoke softly to him. "Perhaps it's not the best decision at the moment. Death is beautiful only in romantic novels, and reality is, well, ugly. I think you would prefer to remember your mother in a different way." If i could spare him from suffering, i would.

Elizabeth's body was still there, in her ward, on her bed. Some small cynical part of my medically tuned vampire mind took a note that her son was going to meet her very soon, so no need in hurtful parting. Though everything that was still human in me couldn't forbid him having that last very human experience. Some unspoken idea began to form in my head, but I didn't let myself slid into putting it into words, pushing it in the far corner of my inner world.

Edward should have stayed in bed, even the short walk could do lost of harm, but he was persistent. I offered my hand to support him, but he refused from help and stood firmly on his feet. He put on a hospital robe and proceeded to the door confidently. I followed him silently, amazed by that unexpected surge of energy.

He walked with a steady pace, perfectly knowing the way. There was something heartbreaking in the way he went the path of dead. It looked almost inhuman how calm and concentrated he was. All the way to his mother's deathbed he never sped up or slowed his pace. In the same manner he sat at the edge of the chair and watched her dead face intently.

It wasn't exactly the reaction I expected. In my years of practice I was more used to tears of regret or fear, to an outburst of emotions, but very rarely to such intense attempt to memorize every little detail. I almost drifted into my own memories, recalling how I myself used to bid farewell to those very few dear human friends I'd had. Watching them die, already dead, I was trying to capture everything about them, store in my mind for eternity. Deemed to die, Edward seemed to be doing the same thing. Those minutes by her bed flew away in total silence and stillness.

As much as I empathized him, I couldn't stop myself from glimpsing at his face on the way back to his room. I was so absorbed into comparing his reactions with my own ones, that even missed the moment when his walk slightly slowed. His energy and self-control were finally abandoning him.

A shadow of desperation flew over his eyes and the expression of his face suddenly became broken and pained. Edward's eyes rolled to the head, lids closed heavily and he almost collapsed on the floor. He could hit it very hard, if a passing by girl hadn't caught his elbow and shoulder. With the strength no one could expect from such a tiny person she shook him lightly to bring back to life and put back on feet. It took less than a second, and I quickly held him to support and proceeded to his room.

Edward opened his eyes, feeling definitely ashamed for the loss of control, and then his concentrated expression was back, his jaws closed tightly. He reached his bed without any more accidents, but it was obvious that he used all his energy. He fell on his bed, unable to move anymore. A nurse helped him to set himself more comfortably, and he was too weak to refuse her help, too weak even to feel confused by that fact.

My eyes caught something new in the room. A bright spot of flowers on the bed table. I looked at it and lifted a brow. She noticed the direction of my look and explained shortly.

"A visitor has just dropped the bouquet here." The nurse gestured to the neighbor ward. "She said her father is in a place with much better flowers now." She added with a tiny sad smile.

The next few days I spent like walking in a nightmare. Somehow Edward's indifference to life mirrored on me. The thought of finding a mate didn't interest me that much anymore. I did my duties accurately, but that was all I could manage. I came to see him twice a day, but he was all the same, his condition slowly but unstoppably getting worse. We barely exchanged a few words.

He did fell into coma, but it wasn't a still one. Edward's lips were moving very fast, as if he was having a very intense conversation, arguing, proving something silently. Sometimes he smiled; sometimes he looked desperate, and then again back to argument. This strange action caught my attention fully. It looked like he'd made a decision and now was convincing someone. All my previous thoughts of giving him immortality came back at once, so full of life he looked. In an hour of this strange argument his face softened, and I could only admire the expression. Even the surrounding sounds of the hospital in times of epidemic were barely distracting me. This lively expression was over beating even the quiet noises of agony somewhere close. His face became attentive, like listening, he opened his eyes suddenly and sharply inhaled arching his back. His hands were trying to reach something in front of him. I jumped on my feet.

"What is it, what?" He asked still inhaling.

I could only guess that the flowers on his table made him suffocate from its scent. With one quick movement I pushed the damn freesias away to give him some air. Edward fell on the bed and became still. I sensed his heart was still beating, but the sound was fainting. The silence fell, even the sounds of agony stopped. Another soul abandoned this world, just like Edward was going to do in a few minutes.

His jump to life seemed to break something inside of me. If I could only cry, I would now. I wasn't going to let him just follow this endless chain of deaths, the decision was made. I finally threw away all my doubts and rushed out of the ward. There was almost no time left to make all the preparations. _I'm not going to let him die, Elizabeth_. _He will… exist._


End file.
